Alexander Bratersky and Chase Erickson didn’t react to that warning, but the other two Deltas shifted their weight uneasily from one foot to the next. Whatever it was about this place, it seemed no one wanted to get kicked out.
Mr. Smith rolled his shoulder and drew in a deep breath. “Deltas, when your name is called, you will name your first teammate.” His gaze passed over the line of Deltas like a burning fuse until it landed on me, and I felt like I was about to explode. “Matt Cambridge.”
I felt sweat pop out on my forehead. I didn’t want to go first. Why did I have to go first? I had no clue what I was doing. What was I building a team for? My mind suddenly flashed to the conversation I’d had with Rylee on the bus. She’d said she had the perfect team all picked out.
“Rylee.” My voice came out rough, and I pointed at the girl for good measure.
Rylee made her way up on stage just as Mr. Smith called, “Alexander Bratersky.”
“Derek Anderson,” Alexander said without hesitation.
“You’re a Delta?” Rylee whispered as she stepped beside me. “Why didn’t you tell me? Were you testing me? Why’d you pick me first?”
“Becca Plain,” Mr. Smith called out.
“Kari Martins,” the redheaded Delta said from farther down the line.
I knew my turn was coming again. “Rylee, who should I pick next?”
“Huh? Why are you asking me?”
“Dexter Miller,” Mr. Smith called.
“Ali Donaldson,” Dexter said.
“C’mon,” I urged. “You said you had a team all sorted. Now tell me who to pick.”
“Chase Erickson.”
Chase’s voice boomed from the end of the line. “Bryce Foul.”
This time Mr. Smith didn’t say my name, but he looked down the line at me with an expression that clearly implied, “Make your next selection.”
“Just give me a name, Rylee.” The desperation in my voice must’ve registered because Rylee suddenly looked very worried.
“Just call Angie Salt,” Rylee whispered.
“Angie Salt,” I said.
A girl stepped out of the crowd as the other Deltas continued with their selections. She was a few pounds more than “curvy” and had a smile that looked practiced. Her hair was bleached blonde and stopped just above her shoulders.
“All right,” I whispered. “Who do I call next?”
“Um …” Rylee licked her lips and glanced over the crowd. “If you’d have told me I was going to be on your team, I would have had more time to come up with some names.”
“You said you already had the perfect team sorted out,” I reminded her. “Who’s next?”
Rylee squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Pick Amara Ubeku.”
Chase had just called out his next selection, and Mr. Smith’s gaze turned back to me.
“Amara Ubeku,” I said.
Amara was a tall, skinny guy who looked at least a year older than me. He had dark skin and a shaved head. He adjusted his thin-rimmed glasses as he stepped out of the crowd and stared at me just long enough to make me uncomfortable. He crossed the platform with long, wiry strides and took a post next to Angie. He looked intelligent and mean. Not mean in the I’m going to mug you in a dark alley sort of way. More of a say or do something I don’t like and I will make bad things happen to you sort of way.
I turned to Rylee, and she whispered another name as my turn came again.
“Junosuke Tagai,” I said, repeating her suggestion.
Junosuke was Asian and about the same height as me. He had thick dark hair and walked with a sort of swagger.
“It’s Juno,” he said as he joined the group. “Everyone just calls me Juno.”
Rylee tilted her head toward me. “Pick Yaakov Katz next.”
I repeated the name when my turn came again. Yaakov Katz turned out to be the kid who had been buried in his laptop on the bus. He was at least a full head shorter than me and had arms like coat hangers. Not exactly the kind of person you’d pick for a sports team, but I’d pretty much given up on that idea. I just hadn’t firmed up my next theory yet.
When the final name had been called, Mr. Smith turned to the remaining kids. “Team and cabin assignments will be located on the bulletin board outside the first-aid station in the next few minutes. You have the rest of the morning to get squared away. Remember,” he added, “that the quadrant you’ve been assigned is specific to a team. That team’s Delta can use you as they see fit. Is that clear?”
The campers nodded without making a sound. It was eerie.
Dalson stepped forward and cast his gaze around the crowd and nodded approvingly. Then he turned to the Deltas. “I suggest you take the day, get your teams settled in your cabins. A hint for the competitions that’ll start next week: strategy and finesse will get you more points than will muscle and fire.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I tried to make my expression as icy as those around me so it would at least appear as though I knew what was going on.
“Why are you making that face?” Rylee asked. “You look constipated.”
I groaned.
“Preliminary rankings will begin later today.” Dalson’s expression turned serious. “One last thing.” He pointed at us Deltas and then gestured over all the other campers. “This is a camp for kids. Just a regular summer camp. At all times and in all places, you will adopt the persona of a regular camper. Only when you and your team are executing a plan during a competition will that change.”
Weird to weirder. I needed to figure this place out. Now. What kind of camp has to tell their campers to act normal? A military camp? A drama camp? A camp for kids who were so maladjusted that they needed to be reminded that they’re normal?
Dalson nodded to Mr. Smith, and the large man shouted, “Dismissed!”
The campers turned and headed off, presumably to wait for their cabin assignments. I, on the other hand, wasn’t quite able to get my mind to communicate with my body well enough to move. Instead, I looked at my teammates’ faces. Each of them gazed at me with expressions somewhere between confusion and concern.
“Well?” Angie asked. “What’ll you have us do, Captain Cambridge?” She chuckled. “Captain Cambridge. That sounds like a cereal that should have colorful marshmallow boats in it or something.”
I glanced at Rylee with a raised brow.
“She’s not as crazy as she seems,” Rylee said. “Well actually,” she said, wincing just a bit, “she kind of is.”
Angie seemed buoyed by the comment and lifted her chin.
I sighed. “Anyone know where our cabins are?”
Chapter 8
The Delta cabins were positioned on the outer edges of the camp’s grounds. Rylee explained they were all spaced well enough apart to make cheating more of a challenge. The way she said it made me think that cheating wasn’t against the rules and might even be encouraged.
Our cabin was blue with a red roof and at least twice the size of the other cabins we passed along the way. Inside was an open living area with wide-planked wooden floors and rough timber on the walls. The roof was supported by thick beams so dark they almost looked charred. Six narrow cots, like the kind you see in army movies, were positioned around the room. At the foot of each was a large plastic storage bin the color of dirt.
Six beds? “We’re all together?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Angie asked. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t want us in the same cabin as you?”
“Well …” I gestured to her and Rylee. “You’re girls.”
Juno and Yaakov laughed.
“At least you’re observant,” Amara said. His voice was deep, and he spoke with an accent I’d never heard before. He took a breath and let it out with a sigh that made it clear he thought I had no business leading the five of them to a bathroom, let alone in the upcoming competitions. He walked across the room and put his bag on one of the beds against the far wall.
“And modest, too,” Angie said with a grin. She threw her stuff on the bed closest to the door. “Don’t worry, Captain, sharing a room with a girl isn’t nearly as scary as you think.”
“I was just … I mean …” My cheeks burned, and I decided to drop it.
Juno sat on the edge of the bed he’d claimed and looked at me like I was a Rubik’s Cube he couldn’t figure out.
There was one bed across the room positioned under a window. I claimed it and tossed my bag into the trunk. I decided to throw the phone Jason had given me in with my bag and reached into my pocket. What I pulled out was a phone with a crack right down the screen and half the keypad. I cursed. It must’ve happened when Chase and I had fought on the bus. There went my connection to the outside world, for the next three weeks anyway.
I cursed again and dropped the busted phone into the storage bin and then smacked the lid closed. When I looked up, Juno was staring at me. I glared back for a moment, hoping he’d look away, but he didn’t. He just kept right on staring, tilting his head one way, then the other.
Lighten up, Cambridge, I told myself. If you’re going to make this camp work, you’re going to need some friends. I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly as I straightened.
I met Juno’s gaze again, only this time I imagined I was looking at one of my friends from school. “Yes?” I asked finally.
“Why us?” Juno asked. “You’re a Delta, and that’s fine, you can pick who you want. But I don’t recognize you, so I don’t think we’ve ever been at the same camps before.” He glanced around the room. “I know these guys. None of us have ever been picked for Delta teams before. Why’d you pick us?”
The others moved around the room sorting their belongings, but they did so in such a silent way it was clear they were all listening, waiting for my answer. I shrugged and then gestured to Rylee, who was putting her clothes in the bin beside the bed she’d picked. “Rylee recommended you guys.”
Rylee groaned from her cot across the room.
Amara turned to Rylee. “So you know this guy?”
“I don’t know him,” Rylee said. “He was just on my bus.”
“She was running her mouth,” Yaakov said. “Talking about how if she were a Delta she’d know who to pick to win the whole thing.”
Amara turned back to me. “And you believed her? You believed some girl you’d only just met on a bus? She’s never been on a Delta team before, you know.”
“Neither have I,” I said.
“What?” everyone in the room said in rapid succession.
“This is your first command?” Juno asked.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Yaakov said.
Command? So this was some kind of military camp. That, or these guys took camp activities way too seriously.
Juno looked around the room. “Someone please tell me this is a joke. Tell me we’re not all on a Delta team commanded by a greenie.” When I didn’t say anything, he locked his fingers behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, come on!”
Angie laughed. “Well, I’m thrilled. I’ve always wanted to be on a Delta team. But it is weird that you trusted Rylee. She’s cute, sure, but not cute enough to risk getting booted out of the program.”
Rylee rolled her eyes but didn’t respond.
Angie leaned forward and placed her elbows on her knees. “What’s really going on here, Captain Cambridge?” She narrowed her eyes and tapped her glossy lips. “Who are you, really?”
I glanced over at Rylee. She was nervously chewing her lip but looked at me with the same perplexed expression as everyone else—well, almost everyone else. Yaakov had turned his full attention to his laptop and was tapping away at his keyboard.
I didn’t know enough about this place to fake it. They were my teammates, and it seemed they all really wanted to be on a Delta team, so maybe they’d be okay with the truth. Not the full truth, obviously. I couldn’t tell them my dad had got me into this place somehow, or that he’d clearly done a lot more than that to make Smith and Dalson think I was Delta material.
Just the basics, I decided. “Look. This camp is a punishment for me. My dad signed me up thinking it would straighten me out or something. I don’t want to be your Delta. I don’t want to be here. But I am, and we are in this together, so let’s just get through it.”
No one reacted for several seconds. Then Angie said, “Punishment for what?”
I shook my head. “It’s stupid.”
She widened her eyes and gave me an expression that said, Spill already.
I sighed. “I pulled a stupid stunt the last week of school that damaged the gym and, according to some people, nearly killed everyone inside.”
Rylee, Yaakov, and Juno shot each other worried glances. Amara and Angie pursed their lips and nodded almost approvingly, though I couldn’t tell what exactly they approved of—my being punished for endangering a bunch of kids or my apparent attempt at mass murder.
Rylee huffed and then turned to Yaakov and cleared her throat. Yaakov snapped out of his trance, glanced down at his computer and then back to Rylee, and shook his head.
Amara caught their exchange. “You know something.” He pointed at Yaakov. “You figured something out on your little computer, didn’t you?”
Yaakov shrugged.
“C’mon, you little nerd,” Juno said. “Tell us already.”
Yaakov gave me a nervous look and then glanced back to Rylee. Then he shook his head.
“He’s scared,” Angie said.
“I’m not scared,” Yaakov said. He lowered his voice. “I’m cautious.”
Angie looked back at me, one brow raised. “He’s scared.”
“Of what?” I asked. “Me?” I laughed. “I didn’t actually kill anyone.” I cast my gaze around the room. “No one died, not even the kids with breathing problems.” I lowered my voice and mumbled, “The ones who got trampled in the stampede turned out okay.” I shook my head. “I wasn’t actually trying to kill anyone.”
“You heard Dalson,” Angie said. “Deltas can kick teammates out of the program at any time, for any reason. Yaakov, the techno-nerd over there, must know something about you, something he thinks you don’t want other people to know. He thinks sharing it with the group will land him out on his butt.”
I looked at Yaakov. The way his face was buried in his laptop all the time, it wasn’t hard to sort out he was probably some kind of hacker, but what could he possibly have looked up about me? My grades? I shook my head. I didn’t care if they knew I was garbage at math. Maybe that I’d gotten suspended for stealing some beakers from the science lab last year?
I looked at Yaakov. “What do you think you know?”
He shifted his glasses but said nothing.
“I’m not going to kick anyone off the team.”
“Or out of the program?” Angie asked.
“Or out of the program,” I added, not really knowing what that meant anyway.Yaakov hesitated, chewed his lip for a moment, and then said, “It’s just … I’ve been trying to hack into the camp’s surveillance so we can get a look at our competition, and sometimes hacking means getting access to one system at a time—”
“Oh, get on with it already,” Angie said. “Nobody cares how you figured it out. Just tell us something juicy about our little captain here.”
Yaakov blew out a breath. “His scores.” He looked at me. “I accessed records and, um, stumbled upon your scores, for past missions… . They’re, well, they’re really good. Not the best in the whole camp, but really good. I mean, they’re better than Chase’s, and his are really good too.”
“What?” I heard myself say it along with everyone else in the room. Their heads snapped around to stare at me in the same instant.
“Let me see that,” Rylee said.
She was joined at Yaakov’s bedside by the rest of the team, who murmured until I elbowed my way in and looked at the screen. It was a scan of what looked like a sign-up roster for the camp. My name was
there. I even recognized my dad’s handwriting. But the numbers that filled the boxes beside my name were lower than almost all the numbers beside other names. When I looked up, my team was staring back at me. Rylee, more than the others, looked particularly dumbfounded. Her mouth gaped, and she kept glancing at Yaakov’s computer and then at me and then back to the computer. The others looked puzzled too … well, everyone except Angie. Angie had a huge grin and looked at me as if I was some big piece of chocolate.
“I have no idea what those numbers mean,” I said, “but look at them. My scores, if that’s what those are, are worse than almost everyone’s, not higher.”
“Um, yeah,” Angie said. “Those numbers are errors. Higher numbers mean more errors. You hardly have any. You messed up less than everyone else.” She leaned over and examined the screen. “This isn’t your first camp, Matt Cambridge. In fact, I bet this isn’t even your first command.”
Rylee started in on me next, grumbling about how I’d lied to her and how it didn’t make any sense. However, I wasn’t really listening. I just kept shaking my head. Low numbers were good? It was suddenly very obvious what had happened. When my dad put my name on the roster, he must’ve seen the other kids’ scores and thought he’d help me fly under the radar by giving me scores that would be below average.
“Blend in, Matt,” Dad had said when he dropped me off. Yeah, thanks, Dad. Not enough that you put me in this situation to begin with, but now you’ve made it so I’m expected to be an overachiever. Great, just great.
I turned back to my team. In the time it had taken for me to consider my dad’s lies, they’d gone back to unpacking. They kept glancing at me, as if each of them had a question they wanted to ask, but no one spoke.
I opened my mouth to say something, yet words didn’t come. What could I say? That my dad had manipulated some records to get me into this camp and screwed up? I’d already told the truth that this was my first camp and it was part of my punishment to be here, so they must’ve thought I’d lied about at least one thing already. Besides, I didn’t know these guys. Even if I trusted them, and even if I managed to convince them of the truth, I still had to consider the possibility they’d tell someone in the camp. Then maybe that person would tell someone else, and before long it would get back to whoever was in charge—probably Dalson—and I’d be kicked out. I wasn’t sure what would happen to my dad if I got booted from camp—until that moment I wasn’t entirely sure I’d cared—but I guess I didn’t actually want him getting fired or anything.
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